


The Red Thread

by Doctor_Whore



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25309765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Whore/pseuds/Doctor_Whore
Summary: There's rain pouring down outside and a hot tea in my hands and I just felt like writing a short poem.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 8





	The Red Thread

I am.

I wander this plane of misery and tears with my endless red thread wound around my waist and sharp silver scissors in hand. My only companions through the centuries of human existence.

I am Fate.

And my red thread can be cut only by me.

I wander and observe the lives of those who I entangle with each other or cut short and feel nothing. They are but only another crease in the space that is eternity.

I wander and bind them to each other by their pinky fingers and snip when they tangle it up. Such creatures they are. Tangling everything I meticulously tied together. They create knots after knots after knots as these threads are not threads anymore but one big cluster of agony and trauma and so I cut them short.

Those ugly, dirty threads that are full of knots. Sometimes I cut them clean, once, and they are free to be bidden to someone else. Like a lungful of clean air after sitting in the cesspool.

But sometimes I take my time, unwinding it and nibbling on it with my scissors and their cries are the music to my ears because it was not me who caused those knots. I am only fate and I bind and cut. I do not create their desperation and suffering, they are their own cause. And so they should pay for my destroyed work. My beautiful red threads that they taint with their mindlessness and emotions. Fickle little things that change merely by the word.

I am infinite and so I wander through the time looking for someone worth my beautiful threads. Because as times go by there are less and less of those who I bind to each other. I found a way for all the others, I bind only one pinky and leave the thread to connect to whomever it will. They are part of me so they will know what to do. I only come to cut them now and I wander again looking for those who are deserving of binding.

And so I bind two souls that are so different but the same, a true delight to me to find them from time to time. As the creator of this space found one gem and slash it in half for me to find and bind again so I can look at it and luxuriate in its beauty.

The true soulmates.

And there are those who are still tangling my threads. I look at them, their names are Hannibal and William and they are a beautiful ruby gem that creates knots after knots but their thread won't be cut because they are one soul. They are not the first ones and not the last to be that way, but they are precious as the jewel they are. I look at how their emotions bloom like flowers to be crumbled by the foot of one of them creating one knot and then another and another but at the same time unfolding the first and second. I look at how both of them trash in their cages of morality, curiousness, savageness and tenderness. They are so unique and that is why I observe them rapturously.

I can not get enough of it, their mutual pain because of their own emotion and emotion of their other half. So complicated like the knots they create but at the same time straight as the thread that connects them.

I do not feel sorry for them nor I delight in their pain. I just observe because I am Fate.

And then when the thread is finally straight once again and as beautiful as it was the day I bounded it, they fall into the arms of Fate again when plunging from the cliff and so I will hold them and caress them. 

Their thread is strong and shining blood red. My gem is finally whole for me to look at for all eternity.


End file.
